A Patient Wolf
by RonsGirlFriday
Summary: "A gentleman is simply a patient wolf." (Lana Turner). A series of vignettes marking the passage of time in an unrequited Remus/James. ((HPFT FROGS Finalist 2020: Best One-Shot. Winner of Felpata Lupin's Anything-but-Wolfstar Gay Marauders Challenge at HPFT.))


**_"A gentleman is simply a patient wolf." -Lana Turner_**

* * *

.

James Potter wore a ring.

It seemed to Remus that a wedding band had an uncanny way of aging a young person by at least five years. Just that little strip of metal: how odd, how remarkable. It made a man's spine straighter, his expressions more serious, his gestures more authoritative. True, they'd all been forced to grow up rather too quickly, but it wasn't the same. Remus knew he hadn't imagined it when Frank Longbottom, for example, underwent this change, seemingly overnight.

Nor could he miss that it had transformed James, who now stood at the threshold, right hand braced against the doorframe, left hand pointing at Remus's chest the moment he opened the door. The gold band glinted from James's accusing hand.

"Answers now, Moony. I know you've been dodging me."

Remus swatted away his idiot friend's hand and parried the allegation. "Hey, that's a nice ring, I didn't have a good look bef—"

"Oh, really, 'That's a nice ring,' piss off! You left my sodding wedding early! My wedding!" Remus went to open his mouth but James kept going. "How many times do you expect I'll be getting married? Don't answer that!" he added quickly as Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if you're going to yell at me, why don't you come inside and do it? Like some tea? I was just about to have some."

"No, I don't want any goddamn tea, I want to know what your problem is." But James followed his friend inside the shabby little house, where Remus watched him pace back and forth, hands on his slim hips, as Remus poured the tea he'd just finished brewing.

Yes, the ring had worked its magic on James: the nineteen-year-old imbecile had something different now about the set of his jaw, something even grander and more leonine about his movements, if that were possible. Remus swore under his breath as hot tea splashed on his own fingers as he watched James.

"James, sit down. I'm not going to talk to you when you're all worked up."

"Don't tell me to sit down. What is it with that? Lily does this, too."

"Sharp girl."

"Is that you being a smart-arse?" The tilt of James's head caused a glint across his glasses, obscuring his eyes.

"No. Now sit your arse down before I make you."

James sat in one of the two rickety dining chairs, arms crossed, glaring. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to just below the elbow, and the lean muscles in his Chaser's forearms were flexing in agitation.

Remus joined James at the table and took his time, sipping his tea while it was still hot, holding up a hand every time James opened his mouth to speak. Remus was fully ready to converse a good minute or two before he finally started, but decided to frustrate James with a longer wait as repayment for his atrocious attitude.

"I'm sorry," he began at last. "I wasn't doing well. My last transformation—"

"Was two weeks before! I planned it specifically for the new moon so you'd be in top shape."

"And I appreciate that. My recent transformations have taken more of a toll for some reason, and I haven't been able to shake—"

"Utter bollocks and you know it. How long have we known each other? You've never been _that_ unwell at new moon. Don't lie to me, it's insulting."

Remus glanced down at his hands in his lap and noticed his knee shaking. He pressed one hand down to stop the offending leg bouncing.

"I was there for the important bit, mate."

"You left without saying goodbye!"

"You were a little busy. Understandably."

James shook off this statement irritably and then gestured with his chin towards Remus's hands, which had begun wringing one another, unbidden. "What's going on with you?"

Remus shrugged off the question. "Haven't been sleeping." It was not a lie.

A moment passed in silence before James sighed and leaned forward, arms resting atop the scuffed table. "Just be honest with me."

"About?"

"You don't like Lily."

"Is that a question?"

"That's not a denial."

"What—" Remus laughed, more feebly than he would have wished. "Why should I dislike her? I love her, everybody loves her."

"Come off it. You've been weird ever since we started dating. Don't think I didn't notice. At first I thought you might have been into her yourself, but if that's the case you've done a bang-up job hiding it."

"So...you think I either dislike your wife or I _really_ like her."

"Well?"

"You're mental."

"What other reason do you have for not approving of my relationship?"

"Not approv— James, for god's sake. Look, I charmed a tea kettle to whistle disco for your wedding gift, you think I'd commit that act of depravity for just any couple?"

"Yeah, about that, actually, Lily would like to have words with you."

"Ah." Remus summoned a feeble smile. "Glad to hear you're actually using it."

"Are you kidding me? It's fantastic. But don't change the subject."

The two stared at one another in fruitless silence, until Remus tore his eyes away first, bringing his focus back to his fretful hands.

"Moony."

Remus glanced up again.

"There's something you're not telling me, and I really don't like it. I don't even know whether to be angry or sad."

James didn't even have kids yet and he was already doing the dad thing. And damn him, it was working. Remus knew by the thin line of James's lips, the wrinkle between his brows, the stillness of his hands, that his friend was disappointed — and hurt. Remus chose his words carefully.

"Okay," he sighed. "You've got me. I'm sorry. I admit it. I just...I don't want this to be weird between us, alright?"

James raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, okay, I was a bit jealous. I was thinking too much about myself and...the things I can never have." It was not a lie.

"You'll have them, mate."

"No, I won't, and you know it," Remus snapped. They'd been over this before.

"You will, and I'll be there when you do."

Remus waved away these reassurances. "Look, I don't want to argue about that. All I'm trying to say is, it was a selfish moment of self-pity and I feel terrible about it. But I don't want you to think for a second that I don't support you. She's good for you, and I'm happy you're happy." That was not precisely a lie.

"And before I got married?"

Exasperated, Remus passed his hand over his hairline and shook his head, staring peevishly at the table between them. But James would not let this go, he knew by the set of his shoulders and the arch of his eyebrows. Remus traced the rim of his teacup with one finger, feeling his friend's eyes on him, waiting quietly for the answer. Remus always gave in when James did that.

"Fine. I did have a crush, alright? Long time ago. But it's done. It was only messing with my head because of the other stuff. It was a silly thing, and it's way in the past." Summoning what was left of his nerve, he looked James dead in the eye. "I mean it. You have my word, mate."

Now _that_ was a barefaced lie.

.

* * *

.

It was all well and good for James to speak with certainty of Remus's hypothetical future wedding and family, to make promises he would certainly never be called upon to fulfill. All of James's insistence to the contrary, Remus had to imagine he knew, deep down, the idea was a fiction. Even if James didn't know the half of it.

Remus had known, from as early an age as he could truly comprehend his aberrancy, that he could never have a normal life, not really. And he had known, from the time he was fourteen, yet another reason why he could never have the things everyone else so often took for granted - or if he could, he must always hide them, just like the Wolf, and this time even from his own friends. Against all odds, they'd accepted the curse of his childhood - borne it with him, even. It was too much to hope that the curse of his adolescence would be similarly received; that burden was his alone to shoulder.

The first time Sirius sneaked some of his racy Muggle magazines into school in Fourth Year, he produced them ceremoniously as all four boys relaxed in their dormitory. Remus was reading for Transfiguration, Peter was laying waste to his stash of Cauldron Cakes and perusing the _Prophet_, and James was trying his best to balance his wand vertically on the tip of his nose. Sirius tossed a magazine onto Remus's lap where Remus could not ignore it; a lithe strawberry blonde clad in sheer lingerie gazed up from the cover, and Remus picked it up with a dubious sigh, as though it were an essay on the art of making friends authored by Severus Snape.

Remus flipped mechanically through a few pages for appearance's sake as Sirius snickered. "I still haven't worked out how to make them move…"

"You've got problems some of us can only dream of." With that, Remus rolled his eyes and tossed the magazine back to Sirius.

The magazine was passed on to James, who prompted, "Don't forget Pete," leading Sirius to chuck a second magazine at Wormtail.

Peter cracked the cover appreciatively and made a little _tsk_ sound. "Reckon Moony's something like a gentleman."

"That's me," replied Remus, sounding as bored as he could. He disappeared behind his Transfiguration book until the sound of James's giggles drew his attention to the bed across from his. Remus peered over the top of his book at James, who was propped up on one elbow, flipping through his magazine in amusement, cheeks slightly pink.

Sirius never blushed, but James often did. He was more modest than he liked to let on. James liked to think nobody noticed - but Remus did.

.

* * *

.

Moony was indeed a gentleman, and he was sure his friends would have appreciated it had they known he began making a conscious effort to get dressed earlier in the mornings, or to reach the dormitory first at night so he could change ahead of them, so that when his mates undressed he could stick his nose in a book or draw his curtains under the pretense of going to sleep early.

And yet, Moony was not entirely a gentleman, and he knew his friends would have loathed him had they known that more than once his eyes flicked upwards from his book as James changed, his clothes sliding easily over his slender athlete's build. Life became excessively difficult in Fifth Year, after James appeared to have grown several more inches and become more substantial of frame.

Prefect duties were a welcome distraction, though Remus wasn't sure how he would make it through the year spending so much time around Lily Evans. It wasn't that she was unpleasant; far from it, she was kind and conscientious. James once mused that she seemed to have spent a troubling portion of her formative years with her head bent towards Sir Snivels, but Remus proposed this was yet more evidence of her benevolent nature, and James was all too happy to embrace the theory.

He could just kick himself for that. Why had he said anything all?

But for all her qualities, there was something about Lily that unnerved Remus - something about the keen way she looked at him. After an awkwardly polite ride to Hogwarts in the Prefects' Compartment at the beginning of term, Remus was certain he'd worked out why.

She knew. She knew his secret. The question was, which one?

She didn't let on what she knew; he simply caught her, now and again, with her eyes on him, her lips slightly parted as though she wanted to say something but thought better of it each and every time. Never vexed, never repulsed, never speaking a word against him; just watching.

A tentative camaraderie emerged, and Lily was an excellent study partner. Remus found he could sometimes escape his fog of sentimentality by joining Lily in the library or common room, or even on a rare stroll through the grounds when James and Sirius were being exceptionally thick...or James especially winsome.

It was on one such excursion, just before the winter holidays, that they found themselves alone near the shores of the frozen lake. Lily's gaze seemed sharper for the chill in the air and her breath rose in delicate clouds. Remus caught her as she began to slip on an icy patch, and she laughed and thanked him but did not let go of his arm even when he made to gently pull away. She leaned towards him and her breathing grew shallow, betrayed by the ever smaller puffs of air rising from her lips. She seemed to be waiting for him to do something.

Oh.

She did not know. She did not know at all.

Remus could have laughed at the sheer farce of the whole thing, except that the situation was so terribly unfunny.

Instead, he froze. "What - what are you doing?"

She gave him an unsure smile. "I…I just thought…"

"I'm - oh, my god - Lily, I'm sorry, I… I don't..."

Her face fell, and he felt wretched. He supposed he could have liked her, if he were made that way. There was certainly a reason James did. Embarrassment flashed hot across her pale cheeks, and her eyes grew distressed at the knowledge she had shared that could not be taken back.

Remus reached for the only explanation he could safely offer her. "Oh, it's not you, please believe me. It's just...James is my friend." The words stuck in his mouth like too much honey.

Her nose crinkled. "What on earth has he got to do with it?"

"You know what he's got to do with it."

She shrugged this off. "Well, I don't fancy _him_, so…"

"That may be. But I couldn't do this to him."

"Chivalrous of you, I suppose." The look in her eye said she did not suppose any such thing.

"Well, you were there at the Sorting," he responded dryly.

"I'm not going to date him just because you've turned me down."

"I would never expect it. By all means, keep taking him down a peg. It's fun to watch. Come on, let's get inside."

She took his proffered arm hesitantly but allowed him to lead her up the slippery path and back to the castle. When they were nearly to the entrance she spoke again.

"Please don't tell anyone about what just happened."

"I won't if you won't."

.

* * *

.

He'd always assumed his attraction for James would pass like any schoolboy infatuation. That was all it was, after all, an attraction: innocent, superficial, naive, borne of familiarity and nothing more.

In the end, he determined, it was Sirius's fault that Remus truly fell in love with James. After that night, he lost all hope that it would ever pass.

Two reasons he should have hated Sirius, then, for the ill-fated Incident of 1976.

It was Dumbledore who informed him of Sirius's sick prank on Snape, as Remus recuperated in the hospital wing as he always did the morning after the full moon. The Headmaster's assurances that nobody had been hurt - nor, shockingly, expelled - and that his secret was still safe, fell on deaf ears, consumed as Remus was by his own racing thoughts. How could Sirius have done such a thing? What if James has arrived only a minute later? The answer to that question drew a shudder from him.

He agonized over what had occurred, and what had not but certainly could have - not just that night, but all the others. Oh, he'd told them, in the beginning, not to follow through with their insane Animagus idea...but in the end, Remus had been too weak to resist the companionship, too touched by the show of solidarity. _How_ could they all have been so careless? So arrogant? So unforgivably stupid? Something like this was always bound to happen - worse, even. Horrible notions invaded his mind: the mauled and mangled bodies of innocent students, his own friends, even; his own imprisonment for murder; his own death at the hands of a terrified community.

By the time he returned to his dormitory that afternoon he was in a right state. The vicious mindset of the Wolf often lingered for a day, warring with his rational thoughts, and this only amplified his terror and fixation. He was still alone, as none of the others had returned from class yet; he didn't know what he could possibly say to them, anyway. Part of him wished to never see any of them again.

When the door to the dormitory finally flew open, James stalked in, and Remus noticed with a pang that his eye was blacked, his forearms scraped, and his glasses held together with spellotape. Sirius followed on James's heels, bitter silence pulsing between them and Peter trailing behind at a cautious distance. They were greeted by the sight of Remus, overtired but incapable of sleep, chewing at his nails, head bobbing slightly to a rhythm nobody could hear.

The sight of his friends was too much for him, and everything he'd been holding in fought for freedom all at once: his fear, his gratitude for James, his fury at Sirius, his hatred of himself. His tears came quickly and he wrung his hands and pressed them to his mouth to keep in the sobs but it was no use.

James's face was stricken. "Moony, what is it? Moony!"

As it so often did, an expression of concern seemed to make everything worse, and Remus gave in completely, grabbing fistfuls of his prematurely thinning hair as he blubbered in between hyperventilations:

"I could have - I could have - killed him, I could have killed _you_ \- could have killed him, killed all of you - "

"Look, nobody needs to be crying over Snivellus - " Sirius stopped short as James rounded on him.

"I've had just about enough of you, alright?" James snapped, clearly resuming an argument they'd already had earlier. "Shut the fuck _up!_"

This did not help, and Remus whimpered under the weight of absolutely everything. James turned his attention back to Remus, sitting next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, fuck, you're shaking like a leaf. Hey...hey...Remus. Remus, stop..." James wrapped his arms around Remus, trying to anchor him with James's own unrelenting steadiness. "You're alright. Everybody's alright."

"No, we're not fucking alright!" Remus burst out, finding his own anger. "What were we _thinking_, oh my god, all this time… We're so stupid, this was _always_ going to happen…" He struggled with his breathing again and buried his face in his hands.

"Hey." James's voice was a close whisper in Remus's ear as he hugged his friend more tightly. "Stop. Everything's alright. Hey. Moony, please."

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?" Remus hurled at Sirius, his voice cracking.

Sirius scoffed and made to open his mouth in comment, but James reached for his wand, lightning positively flashing in his eyes. "_You_ don't talk for the rest of the night, alright? Rest of the week, even. Fucking _look_ at him! You think this is funny?"

Sirius looked livid at being spoken to in such a manner, but for once the dog thought better of tangling with the stag. Peter watched nervously from a distance.

Setting aside his wand, James leaned his forehead against Remus's temple as Remus croaked out, "What's going to happen to me? It's only a matter of time. What would have happened if I - "

"Nothing's going to happen to you. We'll watch out for you. Come on, mate. Breathe. It's alright." He did not let go, nor stop murmuring, until Remus's shoulders stopped heaving. And when Remus breathed normally again, James drew back and took his mate's face in both his hands. His own face split into a huge grin as he looked fixedly at Remus. "Hello, friend. There you are."

Remus groaned. "I'm pathetic."

"You've got a fucking conscience. You're better than any of us."

"Feel like I'm gonna be sick."

" 'Salright, just take care you do it on Padfoot's bed."

Remus let out a mirthless laugh.

"Get some sleep now, yeah? Everything'll be okay."

"I can't sleep. I feel as if I couldn't ever. I don't know what I'll see when I do." He was chewing his nails again.

James studied him. "You haven't slept since night before last, have you?"

Feeling as haggard as he knew he must look, Remus shook his head.

"Well...I'll sit here with you until you do. Is that alright?"

Remus nodded, but his breathing grew stressed and uneven, his brow tense and crinkled, as he lay back upon his pillow. He craved sleep desperately but his mind would not allow it. At last he heard James ask tentatively, "You know...can I try something my mum does for me when I'm wound up? It's weird, but it works. It always puts me to sleep."

Opening one eye, Remus responded, "It's not a Stunning Spell, is it?"

"Only when I'm really annoying." Then James glared to the left and to the right at the other boys. "Alright, I'll thank both of you knobheads - " (at that, Peter upturned both palms as if to ask, _What have_ I _done?_) " - not to be weird about this." Satisfied with the lack of opposition, James proceeded to stroke one thumb from the bridge of Remus's nose, up over his forehead, in a slow and steady rhythm. Remus felt his face start to relax.

"Oh, fuck me, that does feel nice." He flashed a cheeky grin even as he felt himself fading.

"You can't sleep if you're talking, you git."

After that night, Remus no longer struggled with summoning a Patronus.

.

* * *

.

It seemed there would be no end to the reasons he was indebted to James. For his social life. For free nights under the full moon. For limitless compassion shown to him. For the occasional spot of cash when he was running low, given with the stipulation that it should never be paid back.

Moony's bill came due near the end of Sixth Year.

"Remus," began Lily as they were finishing up their rounds one evening, "I have an odd question for you."

"I may have an odd answer for you."

She gave him a playful shove. There had been, thankfully, nothing further between them like what had happened by the lake, but he tried to maintain a considerate detachment all the same.

Lily studied her fingernails for a moment. Remus could not miss the deliberate casualness of her next question: "How come Potter doesn't bother me any more?"

He swallowed and kept his face neutral. "Do you suppose it might have something to do with the five hundred seventy-eight times you've told him to stop bothering you?"

She did not respond.

After a moment, Remus allowed himself a small smile. "Should I be insulted?" he teased, acknowledging the dragon in the room.

Lily returned his smile with a sheepish one of her own. "No, of course not. I'm...I'm just a realist. I reckoned it wouldn't do to dwell after...after last year. I'm glad we're friends, though."

So she'd finally noticed: The way James's entire face smiled when he found something truly amusing. The boyish giddiness that still crept into his voice when he was excited. The way he could never be the second most interesting thing in a room.

The set of his jaw when he confronted bigots in the halls. The perfect length of his hair just begging to have one's fingers in it. The easy slope of his shoulders when he was relaxed.

She'd finally noticed. Remus only wondered that it had taken _this _long.

He was ashamed of himself, that he didn't immediately apprise James of this new intelligence. He agonized over it, selfishly.

But in the end, Remus was also a realist. And he was James's friend, to boot.

He caught James's eyes on Lily one day as they worked in the library. Bending his head over his essay, he drew a steadying breath before murmuring placidly, "She talks about you all the time during our rounds."

He could feel James's hazel stare boring into the top of his head. "What?"

"Yeah, it's really annoying," Remus added with an air of bored nonchalance, never lifting his own eyes from his work.

One of them might as well be happy.

.

* * *

.

No, it didn't do to dwell, but it was rather unavoidable for a fellow who had always spent far too much time inside his own head. These days he mainly dwelled on his own inaction and cowardice, how he'd never said anything before and now it was surely too late. James was married now, and a father. Remus considered the matter closed until he learned of the Potters' decision to perform the Fidelius Charm. Times were truly desperate, and he was forced to confront the possibility that he would never see them again.

Sirius would never give them up; of that, he was certain. For all his faults, Sirius loved James, and because James loved Lily he loved Lily, and he was frankly smitten with Harry. But it could be months - years, even - before Remus so much as heard from them. An irrational part of him still feared the worst, and the logical part had to acknowledge that even if they survived, Remus himself might not.

And James would never have known. Remus could scarcely live with the thought.

When Remus showed up on James's doorstep, James was taken aback by what he saw.

"Moony! Oh, Moony, what is it, mate?"

He knew his eyes were still red from all he'd cried that morning as he'd wrestled with his thoughts.

James gave him a knowing look. "Have you been watching that Muggle film again - what's it called? How do you even find the time?"

Remus gave a little laugh in spite of himself. "_Watership Down_, and no, I haven't."

Arms crossed easily, James waited for him to speak again. Remus drew a breath. "So you're doing it tonight, then? The Fidelius?"

Hazel eyes glanced down at the floor. "We can't put it off any longer, I'm afraid."

Whatever look was on Remus's face made an impression on James, who grasped his friend's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Sirius is a fortress. Nobody's getting this out of him."

"You did choose the stubbornest son of a bitch in the world, I'll give you that."

Likely in an effort to invigorate his companion, James clapped his hands together and splayed them triumphantly. "We'll never be found, Moony! You can take that to Gringott's." Impossibly, his voice carried that boyish note of excitement.

Remus shook his head. "I still worry."

" 'Course you do, my fine furry friend, that's what I love about you."

Remus wondered whether his heart had ever beat so loudly.

Suddenly, James wrapped him in a sturdy hug. Remus returned it, grasping the back of James's shirt and squeezing his eyes shut to keep further tears at bay. After a spell, they pulled apart, still holding steadfastly to one another's arms.

"Keep the faith, mate. We'll all be through this soon, and we'll be stronger for it. I just wish we could help you lot take him down."

"How can you know?" James was always so sure.

"Oh, because I run all of my opinions by Lily these days to make certain they're correct."

At that, Remus snorted. "What happened to you?"

"Reckon I'm a better man than I used to be. Still nowhere near as good as you, though."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

Then James clapped him on the shoulder and their grip on one another ended, and the moment to act was disappearing in front of his eyes.

"James." It was barely above a whisper.

"Yeah."

Remus swallowed. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

He was rewarded with one of those smiles, the kind that spread over James's entire face. "I'll see you in a better world, my friend. That's a promise."

What on earth had he been thinking? What had he supposed was going to happen, exactly, if he unloaded this explosive secret onto his already overburdened companion?

At worst, James would be disgusted. At best, guilted. How could he possibly be expected to respond?

_I love you, too, Moony. I'd leave my wife for you._

_I could have loved you, Moony. I wish I'd known sooner._

_I don't love you, Moony. Not like that._

No matter the response, it would cause pain for someone. James had already made his decision. James was happy. So while Remus convinced himself he could have weathered the rejection tolerably enough, in the end he could not put his friend in that position.

Because Moony was a gentleman. And James Potter wore a ring.

.

* * *

_A/N: This was written for Felpata_Lupin's Anything-but-Wolfstar Gay Marauders Challenge at HPFT. As the name suggests, the rule was to write about a Marauder/Marauder pairing (whether requited or not) except Remus/Sirius. Hope you enjoyed! Would love to hear your thoughts in a review._


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